Nine Volts Short of an Electrocution
by Nara Merald
Summary: In the third episode Cavennaugh mentions he’s sucked on a Nine Volt Battery. Because it’s perfectly obvious that normal people suck on Nine Volt Batteries. Cavennaugh’s normal, right? Rated M for Drug References, Sexual situations and Swearing.
1. Ex 1: The Tough Guy

**Nine Volts short of an Electrocution**

**Summary: **In the third episode Cavennaugh mentions he's sucked on a Nine Volt Battery. Because it's perfectly obvious that normal people suck on Nine Volt Batteries. Cavennaugh's normal, right?

**Disclaimer: **Obviously, I don't own Threshold, or there'd be a lot more cheesy situations involved, I promise you that. I do not support the use of Drugs. This story is M for Drug Use, Sexual Situations and Swearing.

_Explanation 1: The Tough Guy_

Cavennaugh stared at the complete idiot in front of him.  
"We're in the army dude, surely you can take a little pain…" A stupid Army Core member needled. Cavennaugh could take pain. But this guy….

"What, are ya chicken? Bawk Bawk!" As Cavennaugh stared at the man in front of him, no, the Cadet, and shuddered. God help him if he ever turned out like that. The man insisted on ridiculously attempting to mimic a chicken, elbows up and 'flapping', head bobbing forward.

Unfortunately, the rest of the youngest recruits were behind him, cheering him on.

Calculating the situation quickly, he realised he would indeed, bizarrely enough, lose their faith if he didn't 'suck' on this stupid battery. Weighing up the pros and cons (he really didn't know whether it was permanently harmful or not) he decided to go for it. After all, while Cavennaugh was intelligent, he _never_ backed away from a challenge.

"Fine. You got a battery?" he waited, arms folded. If he'd had to make a wager, he'd bet that this idiot, this C. Bensfourth, did not.  
"Uh…. No." (Bingo). Bensfourth had the grace to look guilty.  
"You talked me into this for nothing?" The recruits picked up on Cavennaugh's moderately annoyed face. Bad things were sure to follow swiftly after that facial expression if the situation were not altered swiftly.  
"No, I know someone who does though…" Bensfourth suggested, a gleam in his eye.

The silence descended swiftly, the recruits sensing uncannily that this was likely to be half the fun.

"Drill Sargeant Rosko has a Nine Volt battery in his torch. I say we use that. It doesn't have enough power to kill anyone." Bensfourth laughed at the shocked looks of the recruits. Drill Sargeant Rosko was not a pleasant person to mess with. His sleeping quarters were always kept immaculately clean, his possessions never to be touched by outside hands. He was strict, respected (and very, very much feared) and always on the straight and narrow. He was also known for giving tough punishments for pranks, especially ones concerning him.

Cavennaugh raised an eyebrow.  
"You're going to steal something from D.S. Rosko?" He sounded more than a little disbelieving.  
"Nope. You are." Bensfourth notified him, to a cheer from the fast gathering crowd.

Cavennaugh shook his head. Bensfourth didn't mind if Cavennaugh got caught- he wasn't antagonistic but he would laugh with the others if it happened. Bensfourth was going to learn that it was detrimental to your health if you attempted to mess with Cavennaugh.

"I will do this, if you switch the polarities on D.S. Rosko's bike before he charges it tomorrow." Cavennaugh continued. Rosko had a motorbike with a flat battery, due for charging tomorrow. It was already set up.  
"Agreed." The recruits cheered again.

Sneaking into Rosko's tent was easy. Finding the torch was easy. Cavennaugh even left the hair in place. Rosko often placed hairs in draws. If they were opened, the stand of hair fell and Rokso knew his belongings had been tampered with. Revenge swiftly followed and Cavennaugh new he did not want to be on Rosko's 'list'.

Cavennaugh took the battery out of the torch and looked at the set up Bensfourth had. It was then connected to a series of wires, allowing the electric current to flow into anything it touched when the switch was turned on.

"Suck it!" Bensfourth laughed as he threw the switch. Cavennaugh touched his tongue, later his mouth to the battery. ZZZZZZZT. Cavennaugh felt his hair stand on end and the recruits laughed, enjoying the normally serious Cadet mucking around. The buzzing increased and his tongue started to heat up. It stung. His whole body tingled. Cavennaugh realised, with some concern, he couldn't feel his toes.

Bensfourth threw off the switch laughing uproariously.  
"Should have seen your face…" Bensfourth declared to the other recruits. Cavennaugh smiled, thinking along the same lines. _Wait til you see your face tomorrow…

* * *

_

The next day dawned bright and early, the recruits more so. At 500 hours the group snuck around to Rosko's motorbike where Bensfourth turned and laughed openly at Cavennaugh.

"The batteries are connected the wrong way anyway, positive to positive. No wonder this thing needs charging. Sucked in Cavennaugh, whatever you had planned for me failed!" Bensfourth smirked at Cavennaugh, who gave a serene smile as Bensfourth triumphantly swapped the leads. A short time later, Drill Sargeant Rosko went to charge his motorbike. Who knows, when the battery exploded from being charged positive-negative instead of positive-positive, Cavennaugh might even be able to keep a straight face and offer his condolences...


	2. Ex 2: The High Guy

**Nine Volts short of an Electrocution**

**Summary: **In the third episode Cavennaugh mentions he's sucked on a Nine Volt Battery. Because it's perfectly obvious that normal people suck on Nine Volt Batteries. Cavennaugh's normal, right?

**WARNING: **This Chapter is M because of Drug use and terminology as well as swearing. Read by your own choice. I neither promote nor condone the use of drugs, nor are they associated with Threshold in anyway. OOC Cavennaugh.

_Explanation 2: The High Guy_

Cavennaugh looked at his 'buddies'.

"Dude, I don't know what happened to you at the army but you went in there cool as fuck and you came out with what has to be the largest stick up your arse in the world. Jesus man, are you a closet gay?" Pace asked grinning wildly.

"Fuck off Pace. You guys are going nowhere! Look at you!" Cavennaugh couldn't believe he was saying this. How did everything change? He'd been gone a fucking year and now he was mouthing off to his friends? Were they even his friends anymore?

"Cav, I'll tell you what. Give us a try. You prove to us you ain't pussy and we'll prove to you why people come to us for a good time." Jayden remarked slyly.

"I'm no pussy, fucker. What the hell are you talking anyway?" Cavennaugh was intrigued and a little cautious. Last time he'd seen them they'd been talking dope and weed.

"Candy flipping on a string man. Tried others but trust me when I say it's the best way to fly." whistled a glazed looking guy, thin with messy unkempt hair. Roland. Cavennaugh unconsciously ran his hand over his hair. Short. Neat. He liked it that way. These guys were the biggest bunch of misfits, jocks, nerds and wannabe musicians ever.

"Candy flipping on a string?" Cavennaugh looked to Kennedy, the translation guy.

"Lysergic Acid Diethylamide, Methylenedioxyamphetamine, Cocaine Hydrochloride. Or LSD, Ecstasy and Cocaine." Kennedy rattled off. Cavennaugh was surprised that someone intelligent enough to remember those words and to know enough about drugs as he did was still down here doing this, day after day. He knew they went nowhere but to the Morgue.

"Acid, Crystal Meth and Crack, baby. Can't go no higher!" Pace laughed but it was an unnerving, high pitched sound. Cavennaugh weighed up his choices.

"Fine." Cavennaugh said shortly, giving in to the futile hope everything would be as it once was. This would definitely be a learning curve for both parties. They set up their stuff, snorting the Crack and downing the tabs of Acid and Crystal Meth with bottles of water they kept stashed here. Roland appeared to be licking his LSD. Jayden took it upon himself to lead the guys in what appeared to be a regular group chant. He'd roar the first line and they would either repeat it, or repeat something similar. Like a crowd chant. Weird.

"Smoke it  
(smoke it)

Take an upper  
(eat it up)  
Inject the fucker  
(inject it- fuck)  
Enjoy the sucker  
(go on suck)

Sniff it bitch  
(Sniff that shit)  
Set up your kit  
(and take the hit)  
Its all legit  
(so come commit)  
We never quit  
(til we get lit)"

They roared. Cavennaugh just found the rhyme amusing. Meanwhile, he'd been distracted by the colours that seemed to blaze out. WOAH! When this shit hit, it hit hard.

"Woohooo baby I can flyyyyyy!" he heard Jayden roar. Pretty colours. Pretty swirly colours.  
"Time for some DDR!" laughed Kennedy, taking off skipping into the next room.  
"DDR? What the fuck is that? More drugs?" Cavennaugh barked out, before becoming engrossed with the wallpaper.

"Drugs? AH ha ha ha…" Pace burst out laughing, something Cavennaugh likened to the sound of a Hyena. In fact his face was kind of… Cavennaugh stared at Pace, or Hyena head as he would mentally call him from now on.  
"DDR is Dance Dance Revolution." Kennedy yelled from the other room. Cavennaugh followed him in.

"The colours are so trippy man, look at this shit!" Johnny called, trying unco-ordinatedly to best Kennedy at DDR. They both missed a lot of steps and laughed a lot.

"Dude, fuck that. DDR is for girls. Pansies. Come talk to Gerald with me." Jayden lead him into the kitchen.

"Who is Gerald?" Cavennaugh asked curiously, watching a butterfly with rainbow sparkles drift past his feet and a snake crawl out of one of Hyena Head's sleaves.

"Gerald is my Fridge. He's awesome." Jayden replied to Cavennaugh's surprising acceptance as they sat and talked to Gerald for a good half hour.

.:Suck on a 9 volt battery:. Gerald ordered.  
"Suck on a 9 volt battery? Why?" Cavennaugh questioned Gerald so the Hyena and Jayden could hear him.  
.:BECAUSE I SAID SO, THAT'S WHY, PUNY HUMAN! FEAR MY WRATH:. Gerald Thundered.

Cavennaugh scooted his chair back from the fridge very quickly.

"Whoa. I take it Gerald is angry at you… just do what he says. Suck on the fucking battery already. I need my food and I need to keep Gerald on my good side. Suck the fucking battery already Cav!" Jayden seemed to grow increasingly paranoid as he looked back and fourth between 'Gerald' and Cavennaugh, fidgeting.

Minutes went past. "Dude I don't think that's what Gerald meant." Jayden mentioned to Cavennaugh who was sitting, literally with a nine volt battery sitting in his mouth harmlessly. The great DDR battle continued, Jayden negotiated with his fridge and Cavennaugh marvelled at the sheer physiology of Pace having a Hyena head instead of a human one. Cavennaugh blinked as the Hyena said to him "Stare at me some fucking more and I'll make you a human steak bitch!"  
After spending much time in the kitchen guarding himself with a butcher's knife, he came down from the chemically induced high and took one look at 'Gerald', kicked it, (to Jayden's absolute hysterics- "Man he's gonna fucking kill me!") and pointed out that it was a fridge. Tripping out for the afternoon was an interesting (and certainly memorable) experience, but Cavennaugh's pride simply could not accept enforced superiority of Gerald.  
The Fridge. It, Dammit. Stupid Fridge.


	3. Ex 3: The Ninja Guy

**Nine Volts short of an Electrocution**

**Summary: **In the third episode Cavennaugh mentions he's sucked on a Nine Volt Battery. Because it's perfectly obvious that normal people suck on Nine Volt Batteries. Cavennaugh's normal, right?

**Disclaimer: **Obviously, I don't own Threshold, or there'd be a lot more cheesy situations involved, I promise you that. I do not support the use of Drugs. This story is M for Drug Use, Sexual Situations and Swearing.

_Explanation 3: The Ninja Guy_

Cavennaugh looked on with severe annoyance, unable to believe his luck. His team was going undercover and he, he got to be the (quote) "Crazy Ninja Guy". Fantastic. And his boss had known full well why he'd objected and still ignored his protests. Stupid boss. Stupid Army Core. Stupid training. Stupid undercover cross institutional police involving busts.

Cavennaugh took another look at what he would be wearing. A pair of ridiculous white shoes. A traditional karate uniform coloured a bright blue. A blue sweatband around his head. He looked like a complete idiot. What was worse, he'd had to study his character, the previous man explaining (somewhat nervously) what he had to do, and dignified sure wasn't it. Now Cavennaugh had undergone some acting classes to imitate and read body language (being an adept master of body language and insinuating positioning helped in numerous ways) so he believed he could. He just really, really didn't want to.

He put on the stupid costume, and grimaced before grabbing his whistle. As he walked out, he heard one of the other core members snickering and managed to fake a convincing mock fall taking the guy down. Jerkface. They were infiltrating in style too however, some were candy striped ice-cream sellers in stupid white hats, some sitting in gaudy Hawaiian shirts with burnt looking faces in the sun. No one was going to take any of them seriously like this.

Oh this was ridiculous. He ran out and the crowd around the show gave a laugh just to see him, which he hammed up to the max. He noted a few undercover agents smirking. They'd get theirs. And then he launched into what he dubbed the "Mr Stupid Jerkface" routine. He clowned around, pretending to fall for a beautiful blonde. She looked partly amused, partly worried that his mock social ineptness would brush off on her. He then blew his whistle several times, looking frantic, making the audience do a Mexican wave. (How many Mexican waves could they do!)

He clowned around with his mock antics, managing to make fun of one of the undercover cops sniggering at him (fat middle aged bastard) and made fun of his toupee. He noted his superior, dressed as a policeman as part of the show, look annoyed at him which the crowd thought it was an act but Cavennaugh knew it was because he'd drawn attention to the undercover cop and they couldn't afford their quarry to realise they were on to them. Damn.

"Mister Karate Man! Mister Karate Man! Do the Battery thingo!" a small and utterly repulsive child shouted eagerly. After Cavennaugh's revenge on the cop, he supposed he'd just have to do it or face Jerkface #3, his superior's wrath. A set of staff working at the show bought up a small platform with wires attached to a battery and a switch. What the hell? Thinking fast, he acted stupid and beckoned to the kid.

"Well then, I seem to have forgotten! What do I do? You have to tell me and the crowd, step by step!" Cavennaugh cajoled. The audience laughed. The kid grinned wildly.  
"Well mister, you suck on the battery, then flick the switch, then your hair stands all funny!" Cavennaugh sighed internally. Well, what was a little voltage for a good cause?

Putting a hand to his mouth in mock outrage and anticipation, he bent down, taking his time to flick the switch and watching the kids gasp before he felt the current flow through him, tart and stinging, buzzing as his hair stood on end and the kids laughed. The adults started clapping. It was when Cavennaugh stood that he noticed it- the perp sitting down, reaching into his bag.

"DOWN DOWN EVERYONE GET DOWN!" He yelled, bringing out his gun and training it on the guy, a white skinhead.

"FREEZE!" Boomed the voice of his Sargeant, and they all trained their guns on him. Shrieking broke out, screams from parents and children alike as everyone cowered. Cavennaugh watched the body movements, seeing his muscles tense.

"HE'S GOING TO RUN!" Cavennaugh yelled, launching himself towards the man as he proved them right.

"TO THE BAG, RED TEAM TO THE BAG!" someone yelled as the bomb squad made for the bleachers where the perp's black bag still sat, innocently, still. Cavennaugh jumped over the bleachers, wincing as a knock jarred his knee but managed to dive enough to take the bastard down.

"WE HAVE ALL CLEAR, I REPEAT, ALL CLEAR!" the Bomb Squad cried, dismantling the bomb and carrying it into the distance as Cavennaugh read the perp his rights, making sure to elbow him in the back while handcuffing him.

Jerkface.


	4. Ex 4: The Emo Guy

**Nine Volts short of an Electrocution**

**Summary: **In the third episode Cavennaugh mentions he's sucked on a Nine Volt Battery. Because it's perfectly obvious that normal people suck on Nine Volt Batteries. Cavennaugh's normal, right?

**Disclaimer: **Obviously, I don't own Threshold, or there'd be a lot more cheesy situations involved, I promise you that. I do not support the use of Drugs. This story is M for Drug Use, Sexual Situations and Swearing.

_Explanation 4: The Emo Guy_

Cavennaugh sighed. He had just gotten out of training and his leading officer had asked a personal favour of him. He wouldn't get anywhere without said officer's permission and so this stupid favour would just have to be done, time wasting though it was. Cavennaugh couldn't stand time wasters.

And here it was, the best part. He was to make friends with his superior's son and befriend him, find out if he was doing drugs or going off the rails or something. Cavennaugh was only 2 years older than said son and thought if this was true, he was a pitiful excuse for a human being. Apparently his mother still did his laundry.

After staking out his quarry and discreetly tailing him as to know how to act when befriending him, he was shocked and annoyed. The guy was what was popularly termed as an 'emo', with a semi gothic, semi punk style. He and his friends all wore makeup, had black, shaggy, girly hair and seemed to be the shallowest human beings on earth. His hair looked matted and ratty, making Cavennaugh again glad for his short, neat cut. Cavennaugh looked at the empty packet in his hands.

Reluctantly, he had handed it to the checkout girl who batted her eyelids flirtatiously at him, which he ignored, passing her off as another shallow idiot- the world had enough these days. And now… looking at his new image he really, really wanted to crawl back into bed and never get out. No wonder Emos were so depressed!

Taking into account his black t-shirt with some band he'd never heard of, his spiked belt (which he kind of actually liked… in a round about way), black pants and his black combat boots (he'd been assured he could get away with them) he'd then looked up to his face and his newly dyed black hair, and winced at how utterly ludicrous he looked with eyeliner. He hadn't been able to bring himself to wear pink eye shadow. He just couldn't.

And he'd made friends with them, smoked dope with them, inhaled that stupid laughing gas Nos, gotten drunk and listened to shitty bands with them. Not to mention their stupid pain contests involving carving symbols on their arms (one idiot decided Satanic messages were the way to go, Cavennaugh himself carved a simple rune he'd noted when one of the girls rambled on about them, Uruz being strength).

Then there were those skating stunts, in which Cavennaugh had been lucky not to break a leg. Tom hadn't been so lucky, he was nursing a fractured shin and Craig a broken arm. The son, the one he was stalking, Brendan aka "Osiris" as he liked to be called had escaped harm, grabbed a bottle of vodka, and decided to liven up the party.

Cavennaugh groaned. 'Osiris' was a complete idiot, and when he livened up parties, people ended up hurt, throwing up or in an orgy. Thankfully he had cottoned on quickly, and said he had a girlfriend who was moving to the suburb in a week.

"DUDE!" Osiris yelled, slinging a an arm drunkenly around Cavennaugh.  
"Yo." Cavennaugh didn't talk much, because he knew he'd give himself away if he did.  
"DUDE!" Osiris repeated. Cavennaugh rolled his eyes inwardly and waited for the stupid proclamation of the minute.  
"Like, we're totally hitting the acid man… the BATTERY ACID! Ah ha ha ha ha." He giggled and chugged back some more alcohol.  
"Man." Cavennaugh replied, resignedly following him into the next room where they had a set of make shift cables and jumper leads hooked up to various sized batteries.  
"HA HA its like so trippy!" gurgled a half passed out girl from the floor.  
"TRY IT CAAAAAV DUDE!" yelled Craig, his cast arm and sling being used as a beer holder.

"Fine…dude." Cavennaugh stepped up, Osiris clamping the jumper leads to his lips. At least they looked clean. He flipped the switch. _Buzzz_. His whole body felt wired, a slightly painful shocking feeling but he could feel his brain respond and his body felt electrified, energetic. The buzz stopped, but the effect was fantastic. Finally Cavennaugh realised they may have hit on something decent.

"Yo how good was that ha Ha…"

Two days later, Cavennaugh was dressed normally, formally going to report to 'Osiris's father. He had a five page report detailing their activities, photos and some video footage. As the leading officer began to read through the report, growing steadily more grim, he informed Cavennaugh he was being promoted for his thorough work and continued discretion. Cavennaugh would be training a team of 5 other men, Pascoe, Rogers, Palmers, Chambers and Saunders, most of whom he thought were fairly decent men.

Satisfied with his work and his promotion, Cavennaugh packed his bags and headed back to barracks, for the last two weeks of his training. Grinning to himself on the bus, he looked quickly into his bag mentally going over its contents…

Two novels, one set of spare clothes, his now black combat boots, a bag of beef jerky, a litre of water, his black spiked belt, jumper leads, a switch, a nine volt battery…


	5. Ex 5: The Kinky Guy

**Nine Volts short of an Electrocution**

**Summary: **In the third episode Cavennaugh mentions he's sucked on a Nine Volt Battery. Because it's perfectly obvious that normal people suck on Nine Volt Batteries. Cavennaugh's normal, right?

**Warning:** This is like M rated for strong sexual inference. Be aware!

_Explanation 5: The Kinky Guy_

Cavennaugh had a girlfriend. That's right, the military man you love to wonder about HAS a social life, even if it is in the form of a most unlikely counterpart. Cav's girlfriend is a little… saucy, not to mention a tad downright weird. Hey, opposites attract, right?

"Cavennaugh?" Syria came towards him, licking her lip-sticked lips. They were, surprisingly, in a club. Cavennaugh and Syria didn't normally frequent clubs, but they were meeting… friends. Syria's parents had been strange, strange hippies (Cav met them once and avoided repetition of that event at all costs) which was partially why she was named after the country where they'd adopted the first of 5 adopted children, Spain, Iceland, Somalia, Fiji and Hawaii. Her parents had been genuinely shocked when Cavennaugh asked why Hawaii hadn't been named after a country like her siblings. It seemed they thought Hawaii was a country of it's own. Syria had two other blood siblings, Russia and Egypt. Cavennaugh had been more than a little freaked out by that experience and vowed not to have kids. Ever.

Syria herself was rather exotic, both in looks, and temperament. Silver jewellery dripped off her, her boots and black clothing gave an almost 'gothic' air, and red lipstick curved around her lips invitingly. She was walking temptation with honey brown hair. How on earth had her (retarded) parents created this marvel?

In short, Syria was one cunning woman. She knew what she wanted, knew what Cavennaugh wanted (normally before he did) and knew Cavennaugh's limits. And Syria had friends in strange places. Everyone knew you had to experiment some time, and that time seemed to be now…

Which was why they were having a foursome. After fighting off some midget kid trying to seduce Syria ("Hi babe, I'm Ramsey…what's cookin?") they finally met with their partners for the night.

"Hey Alex, Christina! What's up?" he said nonchalantly.  
"Not here with Emma?" Syria remarked of them, the couple were normally seen with their best friend Emma and her boyfriend, Tran Nuy. Cavennaugh didn't really care that Emma wasn't there, instead he focussed on exactly what was happening tonight.

"Well, shall we?" Syria asked, giving them all a wink.

"I'll say!" agreed Alex, before he got up and they ordered a taxi to the house Syria shared with Christina and Emma, who had gone out with Tran for the night and was staying at his house. As they got inside the house, they fumbled around for the light switch in the dark and Cavennaugh felt someone push backwards, onto the bed. Snap! With a sinking yet also racing heart (and rising libido) he realised exactly what that snap had been… the closing of the handcuffs that now bound him to the king-sized bed. An answering snap made him gather Alex had also met the same fate.

The light snapped on dimly for a moment, and Cavennaugh looked up hungrily. There stood both Syria and Christina, dressed in some very skimpy negligee. They looked at the two helpless men for a moment and seemed to decide torture was the best, as they kissed each other, running their hands all over each other.

"Damn." Cavennaugh muttered.  
"This is so hot." Alex ground out.  
Then the lights were off.

Cavennaugh could feel hands running all over his body in the dark, and from Alex's breathing patterns, he was guessing the same thing was happening to him. When she bent towards him, he noted it was Christina, not Syria teasing him because Syria always wore vanilla scent and this was rose. When the teasing, lithe body retreated, he groaned in longing before being blinded as the lights were flicked on again.

_What the hell?_

There was a shelved cupboard on wheels. A cat of nine tails flogger held centre place, with handcuffs and was that a…spreader bar? What looked like clamps and a battery, silk ties and a ball gag, body chocolate, and a range of other things Cavennaugh did not dare look at.

_Where did these come from!_

A strangled sound to his left made him realise Alex too had no idea of the existence of that shelf.

"I bet you're wondering where these came from, right?" Christina's voice was husky as she stood behind Syria seductively. Cavennaugh meanwhile was absolutely floored. He'd had no idea these two were so… And from the way they stood, at ease and completely familiar being practically naked around each other, he had a certain feeling that this was not the first time they'd been like this. A quick glance at Alex told Cavennaugh he was completely unbelieving, and had not picked up on the closeness of their partners.

"We, that is, Christina and I, often come here to play. We enjoy our 'girls nights'." Syria confirmed for Cavennaugh as Alex made a choking sound.

"But now we are playing with you. Pick a toy, both of you, but not the body chocolate. That's for later." Christina had never sounded so menacing to Cavennaugh before. There was no way he was going near that spreader bar, he sincerely feared that they'd try and make him 'play' with Alex and he hadn't signed up tonight for anal. Nor did he particularly want the whips.

"I'll take the gag and silk ties!" Alex cried out, while Cavennaugh was still running through his choices. They put the ball gag in Alex's mouth and blindfolded him, tying him down completely helpless.

"I'll take the battery and the clamps." Cavennaugh sighed resignedly. The lights went off and he felt something cold clamp onto each of his nipples, like he'd imagine a baby crocodile would. It was a somewhat painful experience. Then another, less harsh clip was stuck onto his tongue and… oh no…. electrodes were placed in places electrodes were not supposed to go.

"Hey!" Cavennaugh protested, squirming against the handcuffs still keeping him in place.  
"Shhhh!" Syria and Christina replied in sync as Syria turned the dial…

_OH MY DEAR SWEET MOTHER F-CKING SON OF A…  
_"MMMMPH!"

By the time the night was over, and 'playtime' had finished, Cavennaugh was walking home bowlegged (and getting some strange looks) and having an internal monologue with himself over what the hell had just happened, and whether he could look any of them in the face again.

Oh well- with parents like hers, Syria was never going to be completely 'normal'.  
He just wondered what the hell Christina's excuse was.


	6. Ex 6: The Cultist Guy

**Nine Volts short of an Electrocution**

**Summary: **In the third episode Cavennaugh mentions he's sucked on a Nine Volt Battery. Because it's perfectly obvious that normal people suck on Nine Volt Batteries. Cavennaugh's normal, right?

**Disclaimer: **Obviously, I don't own Threshold, or there'd be a lot more cheesy situations involved, I promise you that. I do not support the use of Drugs. This story is M for Drug Use, Sexual Situations and Swearing.

_Explanation 6: The Cultist Guy_

He knew it, he just knew it. From the moment the words "Threat to National Security" had left that beaurocratic arse's mouth, he'd known somehow things would go horribly, horribly wrong.

Like wearing a white robe that could have been from that kid's wizard movie, wrong.  
Like shaving your head bald for something you didn't believe in, wrong.  
Like getting an initiation tattoo that would later have to be removed, wrong.  
Like only being allowed to drink out of plastic cups, wrong.  
Like refusing to use electricity, and having to use candles for light and a fire heated kettle for lukewarm water, wrong.  
Like having to sing songs that were half about the vengeance of the lord and half about bliss and two thirds in other (quite possibly made up) languages, wrong.  
Like enforced partner swapping, wrong.

Cavennaugh had had to knock out the woman he was supposed to be sharing, then pretend she'd fallen down the stairs. What? No way was he sleeping with any of those hippy, no-bra-wearing old kooks. They were, to put it bluntly, crazed and disgusting. Heard of a razor, much?

He'd joined a cult. He'd joined the North Dakota sect, while others had infiltrated other branches around the world. Yes, poor Cav is doing it tough (and nearly dying from a lack of visible mobile phone and laptop), and will be for the next fortnight at least. Oh the shame!  
He'd been forced to undergo a strange bathing ritual, where a suspicious number of elder women (and a few men) had ogled his body and then drifted off out of sight. The resulting moans were… disturbing to say the least.

Then there were the kids… they were allowed to watch the whole cult have sex! It was so, so wrong. And the worst thing was, he hadn't even found evidence of the poison. Oh yes, what's a cult without the "Poison yourself in the sacred well using tools from the alter of Taa-kan on exactly the 54th minute after the solar eclipse begins" plan?

(That was actually the plan, from other Intel. Cavennaugh now had to find evidence to show this branch supported it). The 'Church' was being held now, and Cav took the time to slip into 'the High Priest of the 9th son of Mars and Jupiter's coming together's house. True, most people just called him the High Priest, but his official title was so stunningly fake Cavennaugh had actually laughed outright when first hearing it, then had had to pretend he had a slight mental disability. All in all, he was not pleased.

He was especially displeased when he reached the locked room to find it stocked full of battery operated goods and a great deal of prohibited things. Hey! That was his torch… stupid confiscation rules. Delving into the old and battered filing cabinet, he found a huge set of files, detailing the exact order of process on the day of the eclipse, down to what poison was to be used and how any who did NOT want to die, were to be discreetly poisoned before any true believers took the poison voluntarily. Perfect.

Cavennaugh drew out the minute scanner from the sleeve of his robe cautiously before flicking it over the documents quickly and professionally, and sending them.

>>Sending: confirm?  
>>>Confirmed.

>>Documentation Authorised: confirm?  
>>>In process.

>>Terminate Operation: confirm?  
>>>No Confirmation.

Shit. Cavennaugh spun around as he heard the door creak, hastily stuffing the files back inside and running for the door. The thoughts in his head reminded him of the scanner, for the moment he paused, frozen.

>>Escape?  
>>>Busted

"Member 1876?" The High Priest stated, partially confused, partially scolding.  
"My High Priest of the Ninth Son of Mars and Jupiter's coming together, member 5." Cavennaugh acknowledged, realising he was in deep shit.  
"Would you explain why you are in my temple of peace and flowing energy?" The High Priest calmly asked.  
"I'm sorry… I… I really wanted my torch back. My older brother gave it to me before he died." Cavennaugh looked down, and made a show of scuffing his feet uncertainly. Other people would have felt guilty about lying. Other people would have felt guilty about inventing a sibling then killing him off.  
"Your brother, you say?" The High Priest enquired.

"Yes, he was slain in a bank robbery. He was highly religious, not unlike Selena. I think he would have made a good addition here. The bank robbers shot him in the knees so he wouldn't escape, then shot him in the temple. He was 25 at the time." Cavennaugh said boldly. Other people would have felt guilty about killing off said invented sibling in a gruesome way. Not Cav.  
"Oh. I think I can help you out, 1876."

* * *

Cavennaugh had left the scanner hidden precariously in the white robe which he'd been forced to leave behind. Due to his cover story, he was now in the horrible situation of the High Priest trying him naked to a stone, and gagging him with the other battery as he used old car jumper leads to 'channel' the energy from the 9 volt torch batteries into Cavennaugh, so his brother could 'be with him as one', without the need for the devilry of electricity. 

ZZZZZZT!

"Mmmpphh!" Cavennaugh jerked as the energy sizzled through him. He was a moderately annoyed man.

* * *

_Meanwhile_… 

As soon as the coat had been dropped, the scanner display received a new message, changing even as Cavennaugh was lead to the religious site.

>>Documentation Authorised: Confirm?  
>>>Confirmed.

>>Terminate Operation: Confirm?  
>>>Confirmed.


	7. Ex 7: The Captured Guy

**Nine Volts short of an Electrocution**

**Summary: **In the third episode Cavennaugh mentions he's sucked on a Nine Volt Battery. Because it's perfectly obvious that normal people suck on Nine Volt Batteries. Cavennaugh's normal, right?

**Disclaimer: **Obviously, I don't own Threshold, or there'd be a lot more cheesy situations involved, I promise you that. I do not support the use of Drugs. This story is M for Drug Use, Sexual Situations and Swearing.

_Explanation 7: The Captured Guy_

That Idiot. That _IDIOT!_ How stupid can you possibly be? You see an enemy soldier, CLEARLY wearing uniforms that were not their own, and you shoot them! You knock them out! Whatever… ANYTHING but letting them sound the alarm. Lt Palmers obviously had that vital lesson wrong, and when confronted by enemy soldiers, stood and stared in horrified surprise, while the enemy shot him in the kneecap and radioed for backup, telling their side to check all cameras and put all guards on alert. Which was why Cav was sitting along with 4 privates in this wonderfully cramped and unhygienic cell. Mould was forming from a constant drip in the corner, and they slept on the cold floor at night. They'd been here 2 days now.

Goal 1: Kill Lt Palmers  
Goal 2: Kill Lt Palmers  
Goal 3: Kill Lt Palmers  
Goal 4: Kill Lt Palmers  
Goal 5: Enact fantastically successful escape plan. Then kill Lt Palmers slowly and painfully, if not yet accomplished.

There was however, a distinct problem with Goal #5. There wasn't a fantastically successful escape plan. There wasn't even a this-isn't-likely-to-work-but-it's-worth-a-try plan. He, his dear, dear friend Lt Palmers, and their squad of 4 others had nothing. There was no predictable routine to attack, no instances where the keys miraculously drifted within their reach. And while Private Pascoe had attempted to hide the fact he was trying to dig his way out (something Cavennaugh had declined to engage in), the enemy had noticed and the bastards had done the unforgivable. _They had laughed. _Cav actually was of the opinion they were taking polls on how long Pascoe would continue to dig holes. They'd laughed, smoked their shitty cigars and blown smoke rings in their faces, then actually made Pascoe pose for a photo with his hole.

Of course, Pascoe, poor, naïve private that he was, actually had the balls to get angry when they made fun of his hole. (It was achieving a good bucket like size by now) and had repeatedly refused their (rather good natured, actually) efforts to get him to pose. This resulted in Pascoe's barely conscious, bloodied form being slumped in a chair (they actually had to tie him to the chair… he kept sliding off and bleeding all over the floor) and a broken nose that would really disappoint the ladies, unless Pascoe somehow acquired a rugged scar to match. Then he'd be a real badass.

This however, resulted in an all-out revolt on their part over poor Pascoe's prone body. They'd been taught to show some team spirit and they'd damn well show some spirit!

….ouch. Spirit bad. Cavennaugh hated Lt Palmers, and he sure as hell hated spirit. Standing and fighting their captors had gotten them nowhere but 'ye olde torture chamber' and Cav wasn't liking the odds that they were here for a friendly tour. Of course, that might just be because Cavennaugh was strapped in a vat of water, ready for electric shock treatment. Painful electric shock treatment.

Spirit bad.  
Electric shock treatment bad.  
Lt Palmers fucking son of a bitch.  
"And now, ve have ze dial. Vy, you look a leetle scared, mon homme…" The man at the dials said to Cavennaugh in a frightening butchery of various accents and languages.

Scared? Cavennaugh?  
_I think not, Fucker_. Cavennaugh only had 3 expressions- mild to severe annoyance, mild to severe concern, and moderated amusement. There was no room in those three expressions for fear.

The man at the controls, with the frighteningly vague language skills, looked somewhat what the average vision of a mad scientist would look like. He had bushy and overgrown white-grey eyebrows that looked like they'd exploded onto his face, a crazy looking white-grey moustache that was long and droopy and a generally excitable demeanor. He was twitching as if he was the one about to be hit with the voltage. For some reason, Cav wished he _was_ the one about to be hit with the voltage.

BZZZZT!  
Silence. An expression of mild annoyance settled on Cavennaugh's face.

BZZZZT!  
Silence. Mild annoyance morphed into moderate annoyance.

BZZZZT!  
Moderate annoyance morphed into severe annoyance.

BZZZZT!

"DIE FUCKERS!" Cavennaugh broke the restraints in an inhuman effort and growled, immediately leaping upon the crazy scientist and breaking his neck with a satisfying crack. Disabling the door guard occurred in much the same manner. The nine volts had been a lot more pleasant than the 45 volts, and severely annoyed Cavennaugh was a formidable force.

With that, Cavennaugh searched the bodies, deciding to pocket the keys, money and any valuables, and put his fingers to his mouth for the Cavennaugh Whistle™ which brought faithful hounds and faithful soldiers alike to his side. Upon waiting a few minutes, he realised no one else had escaped and, a mite disappointed in his men, he started down the hallway… only to bump into the other four.

Bursting into a proud smile, he took in their status… blood stained bandages, the odd limb in a sling and much hobbling seemed to be the norm, but to his fierce satisfaction, each was carrying an Uzi (gods only knew where they'd attained them from). Looking to Private Pascoe, he noticed the man was holding an arm behind his back. Seeing Cav's gaze, Pascoe grinned and revealed a fifth Uzi.

"As soon as we get back, Lt Palmers demotion is your promotion Pascoe." Cavennaugh assured the man with a moderate amount of amusement. Feh, fear his arse.  
Of course, as soon as they escaped and reported back to headquarters, their superior officer was more than a little surprised they'd screwed up.

"Why are there only 5 of you? Where is Lt. Palmers?" he asked, concerned.  
"Oh no. We appear to have forgotten him." Cavennaugh tsked in mild annoyance.  
"Cavennaugh… my office… now." His superior ground out, as the Privates regulated their intense amusement to a mere moderate amusement.

They were learning from the best, after all.


	8. Ex 8: The Sucker Guy

**Nine Volts short of an Electrocution**

**Summary: **In the third episode Cavennaugh mentions he's sucked on a Nine Volt Battery. Because it's perfectly obvious that normal people suck on Nine Volt Batteries. Cavennaugh's normal, right?

**Disclaimer: **Obviously, I don't own Threshold, or there'd be a lot more cheesy situations involved, I promise you that. I do not support the use of Drugs. This story is M for Drug Use, Sexual Situations and Swearing.

_Explanation 8: The Sucker Guy_

"Hello dear!" the elderly woman grated out, making Cavennaugh pause, more out of politeness than any real wish to have the conversation he had a feeling they were going to.  
"Hello Ma'am." Cavennaugh replied, before turning to try and make a hasty retreat.  
"Oh dearie, could you be so kind as to do me a favour!" The old lady was twisting her wrinkled little fingers. Cavennaugh sighed. He'd have to do this just to get her out of his way.  
"How can I help you, ma'am?" Cavennaugh caught his second sigh before it became audible.

"Well you see, I had my son, that's Bert you know, went to University and did a Doctors course, and he said 'Lorna, why do you sit there with your old outdated T.V.?' and I said of course, 'because. I don't need a new damn television!' Can barely see these days, you know." The elderly woman nodded to Cavennaugh, who was trying desperately to think of how to shut her up. He'd been trained for many situations; he was in charge of his highly decorated platoon, he could hotwire a car, commandeer a tank, rig a building to explode, but he couldn't, in all politeness, say no to an old women. Not even an annoying one.

"…And so Bert said 'Yes mum, you need this new T.V.!' and so of course, I ended up agreeing just to get him to shut up!" This was said with a great deal of head shaking. Cavennaugh nearly laughed at the Irony. Or cried.  
Not that Cav could cry. He was mysterious and manly. Tears simply aren't in the vocabulary.

"…And so then he says 'I'll get you a discount, one of my doctor friends has a cousin who works at a T.V. shop.' And so it was dropped off here this morning, and of course, little old me… I can't lift it up the stairs. Bert has been held up- he's in the Emergency ward operating… very important of course…" Cavennaugh was fidgeting with his fingers behind his back, hoping this signalled the end of her speech.  
"…And so I was wondering if you'd be able to carry it up for me, you are quite the strong young man…" with that, the old lady's eyes travelled all over Cavennaugh's body, the end effect leaving him feeling violated and creeped out.

_Old women do not have sexual appetites. Old women do not have sexual appetites. _

Carrying the T.V. upstairs for her was a small thing, indeed Cavennaugh could have done it with his eyes closed (although this may have resulted in a slightly damaged television). Carrying the T.V. upstairs with an old lady practically salivating over his rear end was another story. Slowing his steady strides to a kind of shuffling action, he attempted to minimise the amount of visibility that his derrière was getting, as he, relieved, finally made it to her door.

"Oh just put it over there dearie." The lady smiled, pointing to a table.  
"Was there anything else, ma'am?" Cavennaugh enquired. Damn, how hot was it? The lady must have the heater on 40 degrees!  
"Well I was wondering if you'd be able to set it up for me? My son Bert would do so, but … he's saving lives, you know." The old lady nodded.  
_Yeah. Saving lives my arse. I bet he works at Foodland._

"By the way love, I've been told by all the workmen that I have the heater on too much-" on a closer look, she was bright red and starting to sweat. It was damn hot.  
"-but for my condition, it's best to keep it at this temperature." She gave a contrived cough, and smiled at Cavennaugh who gritted his teeth.  
"Sometimes the workmen just take their shirts off… wouldn't want to overheat." She smiled. Cavennaugh was utterly disgusted, and resolved that a swift apartment change was in order.

"I am perfectly fine, Ma'am." Cavennaugh lied through his teeth, and determinedly set up the T.V. in record time, resenting the fact her gaze was fixed on his behind the whole time, making him feel exceedingly awkward. Of course, jumping up and shouting "Stop undressing me with your eyes, you old corpse!" was somewhat out of the question. He really wished it wasn't.  
"Oh you've finished!" She said in disappointment.  
"Yes. I am finished." Cavennaugh confirmed determinedly.

He was looking down, a mistake a soldier like him never should have made. He underestimated the situation, purely due to not wanting to look her in the face. And he had to pay for his mistake.  
"Have a sweetie!" she cackled suddenly, thrusting gods only knew what into his mouth. Cavennaugh's gag reflex kicked in and he began to choke, coughing up… a battery! A 9 volt battery even. Not a sweet. It seemed her sight was worse than any of them had realised.

Cavennaugh stood. There was only so much a person could take.  
"I. Am. Going. Now." He snarled out in severe annoyance, watching her eyes widen, and not in appreciation this time.  
"Good. BYE!" he growled, slamming her door behind him.

* * *

As he left the apartment a week later, dragging his final boxes away, he saw Rogers, one of the men in his platoon who lived in the same building, a quiet man with whom he got along fairly well. Curious about exactly what could drive Cavennaugh away, Rogers enquired about the reasons, and Cav obliged, filling him in on the situation.  
"Sarg, you fell for it!" Rogers stared at his superior in amazement.  
"Fell for what?" Cavennaugh asked suspiciously.  
"She doesn't have a son." Rogers seemed heartbroken that Cavennaugh had been brought down by her of all people.  
"Wait til Saunders hears this…" Rogers whistled, before leaving Cavennaugh with his boxes.  
_Wonderful. Just Wonderful..._


	9. Ex 9: The SuperSpy Guy

**Nine Volts short of an Electrocution**

**Summary: **In the third episode Cavennaugh mentions he's sucked on a Nine Volt Battery. Because it's perfectly obvious that normal people suck on Nine Volt Batteries. Cavennaugh's normal, right?

**Disclaimer: **Obviously, I don't own Threshold, or there'd be a lot more cheesy situations involved, I promise you that. I do not support the use of Drugs. This story is M for Drug Use, Sexual Situations and Swearing.

_Explanation 9: The SuperSpy Guy_

Cav was on a top secret mission. He was dressed army fatigues for his mission, which happened to actually be fashionable at the moment. When he set out from his house, he'd been unfortunately held up by having to call ambulances for several girls; 3 had fainted, 1 had a heart attack, and the remaining three viciously fought like rabid dogs in an attempt to establish dominance over each other to win his heart. The ambulance people actually paid him to catch a taxi and get to base as fast as possible because they didn't want further casualties.

So our favourite mystery man was soon deep in the bowls of a plane with his faithful platoon. Lt Pascoe had indeed acquired a rugged scar to account for his broken nose and he was such a hit with the ladies that the men joked about calling him Lt Badass. They were waiting, somewhat bored, playing a casual game of poker, for the signal. If it had been any other platoon, they would have been nervous, but no, looking around, all Cavennaugh saw was mild concern, mild annoyance, and moderate amusement directed at poor Saunders, who had lost every game of poker so far.

The light flashed yellow, then white, then yellow, prompting the platoon to quickly pack up their game, and hoist on their backpacks. They wondered a minute about the light, but figured they were 'go' anyway.

"Ready?" Cavennaugh asked, looking to his troops.  
"Ready Sir."  
"Ready Sir."  
"Ready Sir."  
"I can't believe I los- oh. Ready Sir."

Cavennaugh rolled his eyes, straightened his pack, and hoped to hell the thing would work, before the light turned green. He pressed the button on the wall and the door opened into nothingness.

"Ready to jump on my command." Cavennaugh roared to be heard over the plane.  
"Saunders, Go." Cavennaugh brought his hand down in combination with the yell and watched as Saunders, still whinging under his breath, leapt out of the plane.  
"Rogers, Go." Roger's look of mild concern was quickly replaced with severe concern, but unlike the time he'd had to be pushed off the plane, he simply closed his eyes and determinedly stepped off. Cavennaugh was proud of him.  
"Chambers, Go." Cavennaugh signalled again, as Chambers jumped off with moderate enjoyment, (which Cavennaugh combined under the category of moderate amusement).  
"Lt Pascoe, GO!" Cavennaugh commanded, and the man jumped.

Finally, hitting the switch that would indicate he had jumped, Cavennaugh himself leapt out of the plane with the nimbleness of a young stag (Ok, he really just stepped out casually) and plummeted faster than light (Ok, at a normalish speed for jumping out of a plane) towards the ground with a fierce grin. About halfway down, Cav remembered he had a parachute, and decided now was a good time to open it. He distinctly hoped his troop had realised, he remembered good old Bensfourth, who'd had the unfortunate luck to fall to his doom. Unfortunately for Cavennaugh, his doom happened to be into a lake and Bensfourth had survived (albeit after breaking both arms and legs, and his ribs).

With more grace than batman, Cavennaugh landed on the ground, before looking around with a sinking feeling. Signalling with a torch, he waited for his comrades to make their way to him.  
"Uh, Sarg, where are we?" Rogers asked, peering around him.  
"Not on target." Chambers remarked stoically, looking around him for the missing landmarks they were supposed to see.  
Cavennaugh cursed. What the hell had their stupid pilots been thinking!

* * *

_In the pilot's cabin…  
_"_And what does this button do?"  
_"_Don't touch that!"  
_"_What does it do?"  
_"_Stop poking it! It signals the platoon that they can jump."  
_"_Why is it going different colours?"  
_"_WILL YOU STOP TOUCHING THAT!"  
_"_Why is this light on?"  
_"_That means the platoon has jumped… oh shit."

* * *

_

So yes, the platoon weren't supposed to have jumped. But it was too late now. Really, Cavennaugh was lucky they stumbled onto the operation by accident. They'd started moving west, in an estimated guess to try and make the point they were _supposed_ to be at, when they found a group of men gathered around a truck delivering pineapples, of all things. The men were taking a smoke, and Cav and his men, snuck up to claim their prizes, delicious pineapples. (Hey, it beat their crappy military rations that's for sure). Investigating a terrorist ring took a backseat to decent food.

However, as they sat cautiously back in the bushes, eating their pineapples, Cavennaugh bit into something that was NOT pineapple. Nearly choking, he managed to spit out something that most definitely did not belong in his mouth. His troops were staring at him in shock, unused to seeing him choke, indeed unused to any expression that was not mild to severe concern or annoyance, or moderate amusement or enjoyment. Holding up a 9 volt battery, he stared at it in puzzlement. It was when Rogers also choked on something (he'd swallowed a piece of coated wire, and half of it was down his throat, the other end in his mouth, Rogers having to grasp said end and pull it out, to his comrades disgust) that Cav put the pieces together. He grabbed another pineapple, and with his machete (where he'd gotten it, his troops could but guess) quickly sliced it in half, to reveal a detonator.

"What the hell?" Saunders muttered, before halving his own half eaten pineapple. Inside lay a sachet of explosive powder.  
"They are smuggling the explosives out in _pineapples?_" Pascoe exclaimed incredulously.  
"Never underestimate the enemy." Chambers dutifully mentioned  
"Alright, here's what we'll do…" Cav began.

So that was how, despite being dropped off course by more than 28 miles, they busted the terrorist ring, after posing as pineapple deliverers and single-handedly knocking out every terrorist by leaping on them from the trees with moderately amused war cries, tying them up, confiscating every pineapple within 30 miles of the operation and generally terrorising the community with their mere presence. To their moderate amusement, at the end of the whole fiasco, they all got promoted. He was proud of Rogers, Saunders, Chambers and Pascoe.  
Cav never looked at pineapples the same way.

**The End

* * *

**

**Author's Note:**

Thankyou for reading about Cavennaugh's crazy-wild 9 volt adventures. I hope you liked them!If you're reading this, review, or your house will burn to the ground in a mysterious accident. Don't ask how. Just review.  
xoxo Lady11Occult


End file.
